It was all for you
by Nikki Minime
Summary: What happens when four years after the tournament, Sorcha finally looses the slight grip she had on herself? What exactly happened for her to turn out this way? Rated M for later chapters. Bear with me, I'm sure you'll like it. Sensitive ppl don't read.
1. Chapter 1

Mandy could not believe her "luck". She had spent the last week scared shitless, practically crying herself to sleep every night, after reading what had happened to poor Lucy Brandon. This was her first major bust, and tough everyday, when she showed up at work, strutting down the corridors of Miami PD with a confident glow, every night, her boyfriend of 9 years Darren was holding her until she'd pass out of exhaustion.

That very morning, she had been unable to eat, especially after her boss had texted her that it was going on _today_. Her colleagues wondered what was up her ass all day, because she didn't smile, she didn't crack jokes about the case at hand, she wasn't her usual self. Because she knew today, she was going to face a cop's nightmare, an angel faced demon.

"We're rolling, Mand."

She smiled, reassuringly, she assumed, and Frank grimaced back. He had this same gut wrenching feeling she had that they might not walk out of Bridge street alive. Sorcha Ratchford was one crazy bitch, everything she had read about the woman lead her to think that.

She didn't really process anything she was told on the way to the pretty stucco house, and by the looks of it, neither did Frank. Not that he even pretended to listen. He was texting, she knew he was talking to Sherri, who had begged him to get off the case. Mendy herself was fighting the urge to call Darren at the bar. When she saw the brightly lit house, tough, her will failed her, and she grabbed her phone. She gritted her teeth as she was sent to voicemail. On a friday night, in one of Miami's most popular club, sitting behing the turntables, there was no way Darren would hear or feel the phone vibrating and playing. She stepped out of the car, to have a bit of privacy as she listened to Darren's bass voice tell her over a David Guetta jam to leave a message.

"It's me. We're at the house, and I'm really scared. I love you, Dar. I really hope to... You know? Yeah, you know. Anyways. We're about to go in, I find the place too silent, too lit. Eerie. If I am to die... Please, don;t get rid of Football. I know you don't like him, but he's just a cat."

She heard the guys laughing behind her, Darren's aversion for Mandy's cat was well known around the office, ever since the day Darren had bursted in the middle of a reunion to toss her her humongusly big cat, because Football had found that Darren's balls looked funny enough to claw.

"I got to go, the guys are laughing at me again. Love you, baby. Forever."

She hung up, putting her phone away, and rubbed her eyes tiredly, before gearing up. Great plan the boss had came up with. Send Mandy in the fucking house to try and get the crazy bitch to come out, instead of storming in and all get killed. Why her, she had no clue, but at 31 years old, she wasn't ready to die. Before this freaking case ended up on her desk, she was seriously considering taking a year off to have a kid, maybe push Darren to propose, something.

The second she had seen the angelic face of Sara-Jo Ratchford, born Sorcha Mackenzie, her whole life turned upside down. 7 years as a cop, and she had always tought she had seen the worst. Tough luck.

"Ok, Mand... Yes, she's unhinged big f-ing time, but remember. Don't mention him. Or anything they did. You guys are about the same age, you're the one she has the most chance of identifying with. Get her to talk. Ask plenty of questions. Ace is on the roof over there, and Lami over there, they got you covered, nothing will happen to you."

Even tough she didn't smoke, Mandy made sure she had her cigarettes and lighter, and that the bluetooth like device was set for the boys in the truck to be able to record every piece of conversation she could have with the woman. Cigarettes were always good to calm down agitated people.

She did her best to keep her heartbeat in check as she walked in the house. It probably used to be gorgeous, but it felt abandonned, as it stood right now, with no lights, and it smelled like dust. For two years, they had someone casing the house, and finally, today, the crazy bitch had shown up.

"Hello?"

Nothing echoed her voice, as she walked through the hall, and looked in the master's bedroom, that was empty.

"_Mand, we got a lady neighbor here, named Nadine Smith, she said if she's in there, most likely her kid is too. A 14 years old boy, his name is Dani. Thick black hair, big gray-brown eyes. Said she walked in carrying something that looked awful heavy, around 2 this afternoon._"

She turned her flashlight on to inspect the bathroom, frowning. Her voice was nothing but a whisper, but she didn't want to speak too loud.

"You think she was carrying her son?"

"_Negative, it was too small, the lady says. Maybe the size of a medium dog, under a blanket, she did not see the son, it's just an assumption she made._"

"You think he's crazy like her?"

"_Negative. A good kid, the lady says. "Not like his parents." were her words._"

Mandy suddenly went silent when she walked in the second bedroom. On the bunk bed, a little child was sleeping peacefully. Her back was turned on Mandy, but the blonde locks and the twitching arm gave away that the little girl was alive. Leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, her legs bent over the child as if it constituted any protection, Sara-Jo was staring at Mandy, probably since she had first stepped in the house.

"Sara-Jo?"

"_Who's asking?"_

"Mandy Stone, MPD. Is she ok?"

The woman nodded, her thin brown hair like a halo around her head. She flicked her cigarette through the cracked window, and caressed the twitching arm motherly, a tender amile lighting up her features.

"_Hector's about to come to get her. I didn't want... That's not what Jake wanted for us. She'll be safe and loved, with them_."

She stayed silent, until they heard footsteps in the corridor. Mandy panicked for a second, and turned around to meet the amused gaze of a man in his early 60's. He showed his hands, and walked right by her, kneeling by the bed.

"_Thanks for coming so quick, Hector."_

He kissed Sara-Jo's cheek tenderly, and hugged her longly before he took the kid, after Sara kissed her the same way she was kissed a minute before. The corner of her mouth twitched as she watched the man walk away, the little girl tucked under her green blanket. Only then did Mandy see that there was a chair for her to sit in, facing the bed. She obviously waited for them, she knew they were coming.

Sara-Jo lit another cigarette, and when she spoke, her voice was shaking.

"_I never believed in love at first sight. That's not something... I wasn't raised being read some disney generated fairytales. Fact is, I think my life was pretty horrible, until I left home. I don;t regret anything I did. No, that's not true."_

She pushed herself closer to the edge of the bed, and in the light coming from outside, Mandy seen just how sick she was in her head. Her orbs looked like two lifeless black beads, the ghosts were visible in there. They were haunting. If she was to live, Mandy knew Sara-Jo ratchford's gaze would haunt her forever. The pictures she studied did not do justice to her beauty and the dementia that read in her eyes. She leaned until her head was right beside Mandy's and spoke in the ear-device.

"_I regret Lucy Brandon. And I regret the tournament. I'm glad Justin managed to survive. He looked like a happy baby, last I saw him."_

She pushed back a bit further on the matress, and had a joyless laugh, closing her eyes to take another drag of her cigarette.

"_Look at me. I'm the perfect example as to why bullying is wrong. Where you ever bullied, Mandy?"_

"No. Well, maybe a bit in elementary school. It's not easy, being a kid."

"_I didn;t say the regular tease.I am talking about the gut wrenching, pushing you over the edge, meanest fucking bully one has ever , you're too late to save her. And I'm not sorry."_

Mandy gulped. There was absolutely no remorse in the whisper that was talking to her. The pure hatred dripping from Sara-Jo's voice made her fear for her own safety. The cigarette got butted, and Sara-Jo had a pout when she reached for her pack, when she felt it was empty. Mandy offered, but Sara-Jo refused qith a head grabbed a pack of candy from her pocket, and tucked her legs under her as she popped a handful, offering the bag to mandy, who reluctantly took one. She didn;t like candies, but if that's what it took...

"_She's still in my pick up. 20 years in the making. "_

"Where's the money, Sara?"

"_It's Sara-JO, you idiot. Sara, fucking Jo. It's gone. It's all gone.I only have one thing to ask."_

Mandy swallowed the candy, trying to keep her cool. This was make or break. She really hoped the demand would not be too extravagant, because if she even had a flinch of hesitation, Sara-Jo could rip her a new one without faltering. That's what the woman did for the past 20 years or so.

"_It's two thing, in fact. The first one is... For Dani. I'll follow you wherever you want me to go. I'll tell you almost everything you want to know. But I don't want my son... Our son... To see me handcuffed on the news. We always did everything we could to shelter him from us... That would kill him. I don want him to see that."_

"What's the second thing, Sara-Jo?"

"_I want to see Jake. Just for a minute. One last time, if I'm to spend the rest of my life in the slammer."_

In her earpiece, Frank was yelling at her to refuse. This had went too far, and she was just a f-ing criminal. She would run the second she could, that's all she did for the past 20 years. But Frank had no visual. Only Mandy and Lami did.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sara-Jo Ratchford looked like a lost little girl, tears steadily streaming down her face, her hands shaking on her thighs. Her white shirt that was showing her tanned shoulders and her Daisy Dukes, she just looked like a scared young woman. Mandy closed her ears to hear Lami on top of all the people screaming at her in the device.

"_Give her that, Stone. I trust her on that one."_

That was all she needed to hear. Lami had gotten her out of so many sticky situations since they were in co school, she trusted him blindly. When he had a gut feeling, it was always a good one.

"Ok, Sara-Jo. My friend Lami is going to get off his perch, and he's going to get a cruiser. He's going to park by the garage door, and we're going to go and see Jake for a minute. But I can't let you not being handcuffed, that could cost me my job. What I can do is handcuff us together, and I can sit in the back with you. If we stay really close, Dani won't see that you're handcuffed."

_"10-4 Stone. On my way."_

_"Are you crazy? Mandy! Handcuff the crazy bitch. NOW!"_

"SHUT UP! I'm gonna rip this earpiece off, and tell you all to f-off, if you don't stop freaking screaming in my damn ear."

Sara-Jo had a slight smile, and closed her eyes, reaching under the pillow. Mandy's heart stopped for a second, as Sara-Jo pulled a gun. Of course, she had just asked Lami to get off his perch. To her total surprise, Sara-Jo took the clip off and tossed it at Mandy's feet, before dislodging the bullet waiting in the chamber and handing Mandy the empty pistol. Sara-Jo's eyes were telling her that because of Mandy's slight loss of temper against her colleagues, she could be trusted, despite the fact that she refused to let her follow uncuffed.

"Thank you, Sara-Jo."

"_It's Sorcha."_

Her voice broke, and Mandy didn't quite get why, but she helped the woman up nontheless, passing her one cuff that she secured around her wrist. She could not help but stop to look at the tattoo adorning her wrist, two half of hearts half sewn back together, a fine blade sticking out from the top, held by two hands. Right below, written in latin, still peeling because recently tattooed "Ne obliviscaris".

"Let's go see Jake."

"_Thank you, Mandy."_

_"I'm parked on the grass, Stone. Hurry because Frank's coming this way, and he don;t look too happy.'_

Sitting behind the wheel of the GMC Denali, Lamb Winewald - "Lami" - blatantly ignored his incoming boss, turning around to watch Stone and their catch climb in the SUV.. As soon as the door got shut behind Stone, he started to drive, his lips tightly sealed to refrain himself from saying anything. To the woman sitting behind him, and to the asshole he always hated but was forced to get along with for his wife's sake; why did he have to fall head over heels with Samantha, Frank's sister, at a cop picnic four years before? Some days, he regretted going, because of Frank. He should have stayed home, nursing his hangover.

When it came to women, Frank was clueless. He had no idea how much the woman sitting behind him was broken. Since when did Sara-Jo Ratchford ever even pretended to surrender? Even to save her own ass?

Never.

Lami was a very intuitive person, and one thing he told Mandy, two days before, as they sat in a cafe across the station, once again studying videos and photos from some stuff Sara-Jo was caught for, was that Sara-Jo didn't bluff. She lied a bit, of course, she could be extremely sneaky, but she was a woman of her word.

What made him say that?

A video he had found online, out of sheer luck. On Youtube, of all places. After making Samantha watch the video, they laughed for half an hour, when Sam said that Sara-Jo reminded her of Jimmy Tudeski, the only hitman they ever heard of that had morals.


	2. Chapter 2

Mandy felt bad for being so scared of Sorcha. Yeah, she normally was super dangerous, but something happened. She had no clue firstly why she would meet Jake in a spooky cemetery, and secondly why she trusted Sorcha enough to let her go and see him uncuffed. She spent nearly 15 minutes praying every deity she knew that Sorcha would come back without a fuss, and her heart sank when she indeed came back, wiping her tears and walking straight inside of the SUV, leaving the door open for Mandy to hop in.

"Jake's not going to come?"

Sorcha shot her a look that made her scared again, not quite mean, but definitely filled with disgust. Mandy scooted reluctantly besides her, shutting the car door behind her, and Lami started the vehicle, slowly heading back to the station.

"Why would Jake come? Told you I'll never see him alive."

"I'm sorry?"

Lami stayed silent, and so did Mandy, maybe they were waiting for Sorcha to speak, hell if they knew anything then what they read about her. There were so many people of the press waiting in front of the station, even if it was 3 in the morning, it made Lami nervous. Sorcha was crying again, and it made him pout as he rolled around the block to go through the parking lot that was in the back. There would be press also, but considerably less then right now.

Mandy agreed to be the one that would get yelled at by Frank, and so Lami was the one to take Sorcha to the interrogation room, leaving her there with a pack of cigarettes and a big glass of water. Behind the glass, Samantha was smiling of relief.

"I rounded a lot of corners right there for the two of you, honey."

"And I will forever be thankful for you. He was pissed."

She smirked and nodded, her thick blonde hair trying to make its way to her mouth like it always was. He brushed it delicately, and leaned in to kiss her when Mandy stalked past them, grabbing him by the shirt for him to get in the interrogation room with them. After the Mississippi fiasco, there was no way she was walking in there alone, even if they dealt with Sorcha and not Jake. Who know what they spoke about at the cemetery…

"So, are you ready to speak to us?"

"It all started when I was 16. I didn't know Jake back then. It was horrible."

"How about, you just tell us. You can take your time, we're not going anywhere."

Sorcha had a blank look for a second, and the corner of her mouth twitched. Whatever she was thinking about was something bad.

"I woke up, I felt like dying…"


	3. Chapter 3

She woke up, feeling like dying. Today was back to school, and there was nothing she dreaded more in life then to ride that yellow hearse all the way to Lou McNarrin High, aka Hell.

She did everything she possibly could to fit in, but she would always be "The Stranger". She wasn't born in that god forsaken town of Lothair, Montana. Her parents were, but she was born in Detroit, where they started their professional life, 20 years before, seeing their dreamed shattered when she, Sorcha Pervenche Mackenzie, was born, 16 years before. Sure they loved her, but she had been a major speed bump on their road to fame and fortune.

She heard her mother calling her from downstairs, along with her siblings. Samson, 14. Maeva, 11, Roxali, 8 and Gabin, 4 years old. She reluctantly got dressed, dreading the clothes her mother had picked at the store for her, since she had refused to step out of the house to go pick up their school clothes. She turned the stereo on, pumping her favorite tape, kidneythieves and company.

She chuckled as Maeva was spying on her, while she was putting some makeup on. She liked dark around the eyes, and it would be especially pretty with her black plaid skirt, and the dark purple shirt her mother had picked. It was short sleeved, but with long black and white sleeves like she was wearing two shirts. She put on her fishnets and army boots, before putting in her hair the headband she had made herself, purple like her shirt with a flower she had spray painted black and purple. She puckered her lips after putting on some gloss, and handed the tube to her sister, who walked in, smiling at the both of them in the mirror.

-You're so pretty. Sorcha!

She looked at her dark gray eyes, which under most lights would look black, like a dead fish, and her dark brown hair, and smiled. Yes, she found herself pretty.

-Thanks, baby. Come on, else mommy's going to scream.

She raced her sister downstairs, where her mother smiled at her, approving her choice of clothes. Melide Mackenzie had learned about 2 years ago to learn not to see the fishnets and army boots, which were a daily accessory of her oldest daughter. At least she dressed like a girl.

-I don't want to go, mom.

-Don't be silly, Sorcha. It's just high school, and you're already dressed.

Sorcha rubbed her headache before grabbing her backpack, finishing her father's coffee before walking out of the house with most of her siblings, waiting at the corner for the bus, like she had almost every day for the past 10 years. Her brother bumped shoulder with her. He suffered the same treatment as she did, being born in Detroit also. His "way of coping", as their mother called it, was radically different, tough. His long brown hair was worn in dreadlocks, and his choice of clothing included Ecko shirts and Mecca jeans with Timberland boots.

-Hang in there, sis... Two more years and you're done.

-If they don't kill me first.

HE chuckled, and they hopped in the bus, already being mocked.

-Hey! Freaks!

-They're back!

-I was unaware we left...

She sat down in the fourth row, her brother sitting right behind her like he did last year, and like he did for most of their elementary school and middle school years.

As soon as they touched down in school, the shoving and name calling intensified. They stayed with each other, ignoring everyone their best as they navigated through the corridors, getting to their respective classes.

-I'll be fine, Sam. I'll see you at dinner.

-Ok. I'm in locker 53, if ya need me, Sara.

She chuckled as he left, trying to jog not to be late for his own class. Then, the sign caught her eyes.

A singing competition, for back to school. It was to happen during dinner time, American Idol style, for a whole week, starting the next Monday. She bit her lip. She wanted to go to the auditions of the first edition of American Idol, but she was just 15, too young to audition in Detroit. But she liked to sing. She already saw herself as an international super singer.

She dreamily walked in the class, sitting down on the first empty seat she laid eyes on, too dreamy to even notice Tress London that yanked her hair as she walked by her.

She smiled at her brother who was sitting in the first rows, as she walked shyly to the "x" taped on the stage.

-Sorcha Mackenzie. 11th grade.

"YOU SUCK, BITCH!"

"Freak!"

"Get some proper clothes!"

She grabbed her acoustic guitar nonetheless, and started to play some 4 non blondes, closing her eyes as she walked closer to the mic.

Sitting in the crowd, Samson was proud that his sister would get onstage and sing anyways. All week long, the previous week, Tress London, the school's resident songstress and self proclaimed queen bee would pick on Sorcha, as soon as she had seen the 16 years old had signed up for the singing competition.

Sorcha's voice resonated in the auditorium, which was now completely silent and taken aback by her talent.

"25 years and my life is still trying to get up that great big hill of hope, to a destination~ oh, oh."

-Sorcha, we'll be seeing you tomorrow!

She smiled before walking off the stage, and Tress walked to the X, a disgusted look on her face.

-Tress London, 16 years old.

"Woo!"

"Go Tress!"

"You're the best!"

Samson shook his head, walking out of the auditorium. What was up with these people?

He smiled as they were now 4 left, lined up on the stage. Tress was pulling faces as Sorcha was singing "Good luck" from Lisa Kekaula, dancing along the song.

Sitting in the crowd, Jeff Lafferty, new in town, who had a total crush on her since Monday, when he first heard her sing. She stood back with the 3 behind her, and they announced that the finale the day after would be Sorcha VS Tress.

After the blonde would lose, Jeff wanted to go and talk to her. Maybe ask her out. Who knew...?

On Friday, he smiled, seeing she was in his history class. She was wearing an apple green shirt, with handmade black graffiti's on it, and a black skirt, with her usual fishnets and boots, and her hair was held back in a ponytail by a green clip. HE caught up to her after the bell rang, and touched her arm gently.

-What?

-Hi, I'm Jeff. You sing well.

-Oh, thanks. I'm Sorcha.

-Can't wait for you to beat the other girl, later today.

-I don't know. Tress is good.

-Not as good as you. I actually wanted to ask you out since last week.

-Me?

She seemed dubious that a guy would take genuine interest in her.

-Yeah. I'm new in town, maybe you could show me around?

-Hum...

She looked down the hall, and a guy with chocolate brown dreads smiled at her, trying to make his way in the crowd.

-Hum, ok. Meet me at the fountain in the square at 6?

-That sounds good. Good luck for today.

-Sara? Come on, you'll be late!

-Coming!

She smiled at Jeff before racing behind the guy, and he went to the auditorium, wanting to make sure he'd get a good seat.

He watched her walk to the piano and sit down, playing slowly the intro of her song, Celine Dion, it's all coming back to me now, that was his mother's favorite song. He could tell she wasn't completely comfortable singing it, he could tell it wasn't the type of songs she usually sang. She smiled, as she was singing, and he really liked the genuine smile she had. She got caught into her own song so much she ended standing up, playing the piano. He was one of the only ones to stand up and applaud for her at the end of her singing, and he felt like a target.

Tress sang a Mariah Carey song, and it was Sorcha's turn again. Since Tess had went first, after Sorcha's next song, the judges were going to decide who won, and he anxiously waited for her to get back on stage.

He heard a chuckle in the dark, and the light faded in as she started to sing "would not come" by Alanis Morisette. He heard a sigh behind him, and turned to see the guy with the dread looking at Sorcha on the stage. He seemed to know exactly how she felt, and Jeff seen they look like each other a lot, Siblings, or cousins, maybe? She was singing directly at the audience, and seemed to be genuinely asking the group of student why it would not come.

Sorcha walked backstage with a smile, and the judges invited everyone to stay seated, they would announce the winner in about 10 minutes. They walked out of the auditorium, and Jeff felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, and smiled at the dreaded teen.

-What's up?

-What do you want with my sister?

-Hum, nothing. She's just nice is all?

-Don't...

Before he could finish his sentence, they heard a scream, and the long haired teen literally jumped over Jeff to stumble on the stage and towards the lodges, and Jeff followed closely, but they were unable to go through, as a bunch of jocks would hold them back. Samson almost had a heart attack as he seen through a gap his sister being held down by Cara and Felicia, Tress' friends, and Tress was shaving his sister's thick brown mane, a cruel smile on her face. The jock punched him in the face, and a minute later, everyone had fled, since a teacher was coming their way. Sam rushed to his sister, who was crying, looking at her long hair sparse on the floor.

-What happened here?

-Tress, Cara and Felicia shaved her head, that's what happened.

-Do you have proof it was them?

-I seen them! And he did too.

-I seen Tress, and a redhead, and a black girl with blue highlights.

-I want to leave, Sam.

-I'll go call dad.

He left, and Jeff knelt down where Sam was a minute before, only to be shoved away by Sorcha. She stood up and fled, and the teacher kept him behind, to take his testimony.

She didn't come back on the next Monday, or ever, for that matter. Jeff never seen Sorcha again, and Sam stayed until the end of school year, but never came back the year after.


End file.
